


Viktor Nikiforov’s Accidental Girlfriends

by wrensandroses



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Attempt at Humor, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov Are Best Friends, Christophe Giacometti is a Good Friend, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Didn't Know They Were Dating, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gay Victor Nikiforov, He cuts it after a little while tho, Light Angst, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, My First Work in This Fandom, Oblivious Victor Nikiforov, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Teen Victor Nikiforov, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, Victor Nikiforov-centric, Well it's canon compliant for now, Yakov Feltsman Is So Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-29 11:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15728469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrensandroses/pseuds/wrensandroses
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov had multiple personas. All of them were part of Viktor, but only one of them was his true self. His playboy persona was the act Viktor put on for the fans and the media. It was also the one farthest from the truth.For starters, Playboy Viktor™ was straight and had left a trail of girls’ broken hearts all over the world. Viktor respected women and believed in gender equality, but Real Viktor™ was gay as fuck.Secondly, Viktor had never been in any relationship, gay or straight. Viktor spent literally every single day of the week at the rink. He never even went on vacations or trips that didn’t have to do with a competition. Viktor’s entire life was dedicated to the ice, and that left no time for friends and definitely no time for boyfriends.However, Playboy Viktor™ was more accurate than Viktor ever realized.See, Viktor actually had five ex-girlfriends. He just never knew he was dating them.OR5 Times Victor Nikiforov Didn't Realize He Was in a Relationship, and One Time He Definitely DidPreviously titled "Miscommunication and Accidental Girlfriends". I've changed the name because it sounds too similar to the title of another fic that's currently a WIP.





	1. Anna Kvasova

Viktor was seven when he got his first girlfriend.

Her name was Anna Kvasova. She had curly brown hair, an unusually large nose, and bright green eyes. She was also Viktor’s best friend. 

Viktor had struggled to make friends in school because of his long hair and his lack of interest in sports besides figure skating. He was “too girly” for the boys and the girls had hit the cooties phase and didn’t want a boy hanging out with them.

Anna was very quiet and didn’t have more than a few friends. After she got paired up with Viktor for a group project, they spent all their time together.

Anna’s mother, who was a hairdresser, would teach Anna different hairstyles that Anna would then practice on Viktor. Viktor would talk her ear off about figure skating or something else he was interested in at the time and she would listen. After all, she said that she liked to hear Viktor talk. 

Anna was trying out a new braid her mother had taught her on Viktor’s hair when she said, “Viktor, I really like you. You’re the nicest boy I’ve ever met.” Viktor couldn’t see it, but Anna blushed furiously when she added, “I think you’re really cute.”

Viktor was flattered. “I like you too, Anna. You’re also very cute.” Viktor responded.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Anna asked. 

At the time, Viktor didn’t know what she meant. It just sounded like she was asking him to be her best friend, which he already knew they were. Maybe a boyfriend was somehow closer than a best friend? Like, the bestest of best friends?

“Sure.” Viktor smiled. Even though he didn’t know what the word “boyfriend” meant, he didn’t want to make Anna sad by saying no. Besides, he doubted it was a big deal. Anna used big words that Viktor didn’t understand all the time. 

Anna hugged Viktor and kissed him on the cheek before finishing the braid she had been working on. She told Viktor to refer to her as his girlfriend and he did. Anna would kiss Viktor on the cheek and hug him more often. Anna would hold Viktor’s hand almost all the time. Besides that, nothing much changed.

That summer, Anna moved from St. Petersburg to Moscow. Viktor never saw her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! I didn't have much to say about Anna, but the rest of Viktor's "girlfriends" are a lot more interesting. 
> 
> I am not Russian, so I'm probably going to make some sort of mistake regarding Russian culture or names. If I do, please tell me so I can make corrections!


	2. Camille Leclair

When Viktor was twenty, the European Championships were held in France. 

Viktor had picked up French surprisingly quickly despite only studying it for two years and could easily answer the interview questions flung at him after the competition ended. Which was very, very helpful because he had just won the European Championships for the second time in a row.

Viktor finally managed to escape the mobs of reporters and found himself wandering around the abnormally large rink where the Championships were held that year.

After nearly ten minutes of turning corner after corner and walking down the hallway after hallway that looked exactly the same, Viktor heard a muffled noise coming from a nearby room. It sounded like a dying cat.

Despite the fact that Viktor was a dog person, he still liked cats and would never be so cruel as to ignore the high pitched wailing of an animal in pain. 

Viktor gently pushed open the door he assumed the sound was coming from and instead of a cat, he saw the small figure of a woman sitting on the floor.

She was crying. Damn it.

The woman hadn’t noticed Viktor yet. He could probably just close the door and not have to deal with whatever was making the woman so sad. Or, he could try and help her even though Viktor is terrible when it comes to people crying.

“Excuse me,  _ mademoiselle? _ Are you alright?” Viktor asked in French.

The woman froze and the crying subsided. Viktor heard a soft sniffle and the woman stood, wiping the tears off her face. “No need to worry about me. I’m fine.” The woman turned so that she was facing Viktor.

The room was pretty dark. The only light was coming from the open doorway. However, there was enough light for Viktor to make out the woman's features. She had dark, straight hair cut into a bob and a doll-like, petite frame.

“You’re crying. I can tell you’re not fine.” Viktor took a few steps closer to the woman. “What’s wrong?”

The woman took a shaky breath. “My boyfriend loves figure skating. He was a professional figure skater for many years before got seriously injured and was forced to retire before he even entered the senior division. For his birthday, he had mentioned wanting to see the European Championships live, so I got us tickets. Then, I caught him cheating on me with some  _ salope!  _ So, my best friend convinced me to go to the European Championships anyways and take her because I already bought the tickets and she’s a big fan of some Russian skater, but I just had to get out of there! Everything reminds me of Romain!” The woman burst into tears again.

Viktor was not good with people crying. At all. He tried to think back to what people did in books when someone was crying.

Viktor wrapped his arm gently around the woman and rubbed her back in a way he hoped was soothing.

The woman leaned into Viktor and continued sobbing.

“I still love him so much!” The woman stammered. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over him!”

“Shh, don’t say that.” Viktor took the woman by her shoulders and turned her to face him. Her large, dark brown eyes were still captivating despite the mascara and tear stains.

“You are a beautiful woman and any man would be lucky to have you. Don’t dwell on this  _ fils de pute.  _ He doesn’t deserve you.” Viktor smiled. Was he saying the right thing? He didn’t know too many French curse words. Did he use that one correctly in this context?

The woman flung her arms around Viktor. “ _ Merci beaucoup. _ ”

Viktor released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

After a few moments, the woman disentangled her arms from around Viktor.

“I’m so sorry for getting you involved in this.” The woman once again attempted to wipe the evidence that she had been crying off her cheeks. “How childish of me.”

“No need to apologize. There’s a women’s restroom down the hall. How about you go wash your face, take a few deep breaths, and then we’ll go and get a cup of coffee? Does that sound okay?”

The woman nodded. Viktor led her out of the room and waited in the hallway for her while she cleaned up in the bathroom.

Viktor vaguely remembered the last time he had tried to deal with a girl crying. It was his childhood best friend Anna. Viktor wasn't sure what Anna was crying about, but Viktor did remember how when he tried to help she just cried more.

At least this time Viktor’s pep talk worked.

Viktor slipped off his Team Russia jacket. Now that he was no longer so close to the ice, it was actually making him uncomfortably warm.

A few minutes later, the woman came out of the bathroom. Her eyes still looked a little red, but there was no longer mascara lines down her face and her breathing was even.

“Coffee?” Viktor held his arm out for her to take like he had seen done in the movies. The woman nodded her head while she laughed and took it.

“I just realized I haven’t even told you my name! How rude!” The woman exclaimed. “I’m Camille.”

Viktor paused. Should he tell her his real name? If she hadn’t already recognized who he was from his hair color, then surely she would recognize his name. There’s no doubt that if Viktor still had his long hair she would have known who he was from silhouette alone. “I’m Viktor.”

“You’re foreign, aren’t you? I can recognize the accent in your French but I’m not sure from where.” Camille frowned.

“I’m from St. Petersburg, Russia,” Viktor replied, still slightly stunned and extremely relieved she hadn’t realized who she was talking to yet. It was nice to have some anonymity for once.

“Wow. That’s rather far to travel for a figure skating competition. You must be a big fan.” Camille gaped.

“Yes,” Viktor chuckled. “Something like that. Do you know of any cafes around here?”

* * *

Viktor was shocked that he was actually sitting at a table with Camille at a cafe. He was pretty sure he would probably run into the press or Yakov. Preferably the press. But he and Camille left the venue and walked a few blocks to a cafe she liked and no one paid them any attention. 

Was it the haircut? Did people not recognize Viktor without the long hair despite the huge fuss the media made about it?

Whatever it was, it was working in Viktor’s favor. He was having fun talking to Camille. She was charming and didn’t seem to be putting on any sort of act.

“So, you’re from Russia? What’s it like there?” Camille leaned forward slightly.

“This is going to sound cliche,” Viktor laughed. “But Russia is cold.”

Camille giggled and sipped her coffee. “What other cliches are true about Russia?”

“Hmm, let me think. Ah, most Russians have pet bears and Russian children drink vodka instead of water.” Viktor deadpanned.

Camille choked on her coffee. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m kidding.” Viktor nodded. “I have a poodle named Makkachin that someone could probably confuse with a bear if they were a kilometer away and I’m pretty sure most adults are smart enough to know it is not good to give their babies vodka.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Camille rolled her eyes fondly.

The bell on the cafe door made a high pitched tinkling sound as someone entered the cafe. “Vitya!”

“ _ блин! _ ” Viktor swore.

Yakov came marching up to the table.

“Vitya, you idiot! Everyone is looking for you and you’re here on a date with some French girl you just met! You’re so irresponsible! We’re going right back to the hotel, now!” Yakov yelled in Russian.

“Now you know where I am so you no longer have to worry. Relax!” Viktor grinned.

Camille stared at them both, bewildered.

“Vitya-”

“Yakov, I’ll meet you back at the hotel later tonight. The competition is over for everyone and the plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow.” Viktor shrugged. “Why not enjoy your time in France while you can? You should go out to dinner with Lilia to apologize for that fight you had before we left St. Petersburg. I’m sure she would appreciate it!”

Yakov scowled. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. I expect you back at the hotel tonight no later than nine.” Yakov turned to leave the cafe.

“Have fun with Lilia!” Viktor called before turning back to Camille.

“Who was that?” Camille asked.

Viktor switched back to French. “My coach, Yakov. He’s so overprotective sometimes.”

“Your coach…?” Camille tilted her head to the side.

Viktor’s eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. Seeing as Viktor was speaking his third language, it would take too much time to formulate a cover story quick enough for it not be recognized as exactly that.

Viktor bit his lower lip. “I’m a figure skater. I was actually competing in the European Championships. I’m Viktor Nikiforov.”

Camille’s eyes widened and she gasped. “You mean you’re the Russian figure skater my best friend is so obsessed with? No way! That’s so cool! What’s it like, competing all over the world?”

The conversation continued from there. Camille didn’t ask for a single autograph or photo and they even exchanged numbers and email addresses before they parted ways.

Viktor went to sleep that night smiling. He may actually have a chance at a friend 

* * *

Camille Leclair wasn’t sure when you’re supposed to call someone that you just went on a date with that also happens to be a professional figure skater that lives in a different country.

Viktor was sweet and funny and charming and Camille really liked him. She wanted to see him again. The only question was  _ when _ . He lived 2,000 kilometers away and Viktor had told her his plane left the next day.

Maybe she should let him call her first? They exchanged emails too, what if he emailed her instead? 

Camille logged on to her computer and opened up her email. It was ten o’clock at night, but he may still have emailed her, right?

Nothing.

Camille kept her phone next to her to make sure she wouldn’t miss any calls.

Nothing.

Camille sighed and logged off of her computer before turning her light out and going to sleep. She had work the next day.

* * *

The first thing Camille did when she woke up was open up her computer. No email.

Camille sighed and left for work an hour later. But not without checking her email again.

* * *

When Camille got home, she checked her email. 

_What are you doing? You're acting so obsessive! You and Romain just broke up and you're already obsessing over someone else? Not to mention someone you've only met once._ Camille thought. "You're acting fucking crazy," Camille muttered.

There was actually an email waiting for her. She clicked on it immediately.

 

_ Hi, Camille! It’s Viktor. _

_ I just got back home after a long and eventful plane ride. You won’t believe what this flight attendant said to Yakov… _

 

The email went on and on. At the very end, Viktor wrote his instant messenger information.

Camille might actually have another chance at love.

* * *

 

Viktor and Camille chatted online for a few months before Viktor sent Camille his LiveJournal information. No one knew about Viktor's secret LiveJournal. He used his LiveJournal to complain about Yakov and talk about his fellow skaters. Of course, he didn't actually say their names. He had code names for everyone. For example, Yakov was called "Grandfather". And Viktor didn't use his last name or talk about ice skating at all. To his LiveJournal friends, Viktor was just Viktor. Not Viktor Nikiforov, famous figure skater.

Viktor and Camille chatted online for half a year before Camille told Viktor she was coming to St. Petersburg to visit him.

It was on the last day of Camille's visit that everything went up in flames.

Camille was sitting on Viktor's kitchen counter and they were both laughing about something funny Makkachin had done

Camille suddenly went silent.

"What's wrong?" Viktor asked.

"I-I'm leaving tomorrow." Camille frowned.

"Yes, you are." Viktor nodded, still confused about the sudden change in atmosphere.

"I've been meaning to tell you something." Camille hopped off the counter and walked over to where Viktor was standing.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" Viktor asked.

Camille took a deep breath. "Viktor, don't say anything, okay?"

Viktor nodded. 

"I think I'm in love with you," Camille whispered.

Viktor's jaw dropped. How do you respond to that? 

"I-I'm sorry, Camille, but I don't feel the same way. I like you as a friend, and that's it." 

The next day, Camille left on a flight back home. Her and Viktor exchanged an awkward hug. 

Camille had been sure Viktor loved her too. But, apparently, she had been the only one that considered the day in the coffee shop a date and also the only one that had considered the many months of talking online as some sort of relationship more than friendship. Camille had been sure that the cute and slightly suggestive responses Viktor would come up with was actually flirting. Or maybe he was just naturally flirtatious. 

Camille didn't instant message Viktor again. Viktor took that as a sign that she didn't want to talk to him.

The friendship was over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor should just avoid people that are crying. They always end up in love with him...
> 
> Yay! I told you the next chapter would be longer. 
> 
> Sorry if I screwed up any of the French or the small amount of Russian. I take Spanish so...
> 
> mademoiselle: miss  
> salope: whore  
> fils de pute: son of a bitch  
> merci beaucoup: thank you very much  
> блин: literally means pancake, is used as a substitute for another word meaning damn. It's kinda like darn or shoot.
> 
> If I made any cultural mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them!


End file.
